


Normalcy

by dragonwriter24cmf



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwriter24cmf/pseuds/dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Frankenstein just wanted a normal life for his master. A life where he could be surrounded by people and sunlight. He just never expected all the other things that might come with the fulfillment of that desire.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Normalcy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters belong to the creators of Noblesse.

**Normalcy**

820 years. Eight long and lonely centuries he had searched and waited for his master, lost to him. So long.

He had looked everywhere he could. He’d hunted the length and breadth of the globe, from the ugliest slums to the highest ranking officials quarters. And found nothing.

And so he’d built a school. Built a place his master could come back to, far away from the shadowed world of the Nobles. A place that, should they ever be reunited, he’d be able to give his master all the things he’d always wished to give him. Sunlight. People around him. Tea. All the tiny things that the people he watched took for granted, he wanted his master to experience.

And then…it happened. He looked up, and there he was. His master. Awake and alive, even almost smiling at him. And dressed in, of all things, the uniform of his school.

It was the work of less than an hour to arrange the paperwork. After all, he’d been waiting for this day for years. Uncountable, lonely, agonizing years. His master wanted to learn about the world he had awakened into, the people and the customs. His master looked fairly young. It was no trouble to work him into the school as a transfer student. A few explanations to the teachers about his new student from overseas, a few gentle warnings about how he might not understand things, and it was done.

He put his master in Shinwoo’s class both because there was a vacant seat, and because he knew his master was more comfortable with at least one familiar face nearby. The boy was a bit loud, and certainly brash, but he would be familiar. And he was no worse than some of the Nobles they had known.

It was from there that things began to go far, far differently than he’d expected.

He had hoped to surround his master with sunlight, people and conversation. He hadn’t expected him to be adopted by a small, mismatched group of human children. Shinwoo, martial arts expert, but undisciplined in all his classes, rather messy and brash and rough. Ik-Han, computer expert, budding genius, and a boy he almost hoped he’d have a chance to mentor one day. The child reminded him somewhat of himself, wide-eyed curiosity and quick mind. Yuna, young and shy, but sweet. Suyi, the up and coming model, star of the school. Such an unusual collection of people and yet, somehow, his master was swept into the group. A companion, a schoolmate. In fact, the children even called him a friend.

His master had so few of those. Even fewer were the ones who did not gaze on him with near-worship in their eyes. It was heartening, to see him surrounded by laughing children, who treated him as one of their own.

And then…it got strange. For both of them. Because he hadn’t fathomed what his master having teenage friends would mean. Or what master being a school student would mean. Suddenly, he was worrying about things that had hardly, if ever, crossed his mind before.

Lunch money. He was the Chairman. When he wanted food, he got it. When he thought of it, he would inform the cooks, but oftentimes he simply went, made himself a tray, and went back to the office. But his master couldn’t do that, not too often, and so lunch money needed to be provided. Not only provided, but counted out and explained, since his master had no concept of currency in any form, let alone local.

Ramen. He’d eaten it once or twice, either because he’d forgotten anything else, or simply because it was easy. But it wasn’t what he was used to, never had been, and when he could he made other things. But his master loved Ramen. And so he was suddenly learning more about the flavors and preparation methods of Ramen than he’d ever thought possible.

Intrusions. He had never particularly welcomed people into his home. He liked it tidy, after all, and guests were not generally conducive to tidiness. He’d never considered the fact that teenagers often spent time at each other’s homes. Nor had it occurred to him that, of his master’s new circle of friends, he had the biggest home available. He also provided an adult chaperone to soothe any parental concerns. Therefore, he had the most ideal location to socialize at. To say nothing of the social status it conferred to be a frequent (and theoretically welcomed) guest of the school Chairman. And so he suddenly found himself with children in his house, multiple afternoons and evenings during the week, and often on the weekends as well. Perhaps, if one of them had something else to do, there might be a member or two missing, but there were almost always at least two teenagers wandering into his house. They were loud, they were rambunctious, and, while polite, they also made themselves very much at home. They even took to staying over for dinner every so often. And he could find no way to rebuff them. They were his master's friends, after all.

Groceries, and junk food. He bought his own groceries, always had. But now he had to remember to buy them for three or four hungry teens. He had to remember that they liked soda and juice packs, not tea and coffee. He had to remember ramen, and pocky, and chips. None of those were things he ate, not normally. He had to remember to put them near the front of his pantry and fridge, where they'd be easily spotted, unless he wanted his food storage areas ransacked and demolished while they hunted for things. Yuna was polite about it, but Shinwoo could be counted on to never put things back where they went.

Messes. His master hardly ever messed anything up. In fact, his master hated messes and untidiness almost as much as he did. But the children were a different story. They lounged in the most awkward and inelegant positions possible. They dropped crumbs on just about any surface. They left wrappers and trash everywhere, particularly Shinwoo. Sometimes, they spilled things. To be fair, it was usually on the table or the floor, both of which were easily cleaned, but it made him twitch just the same. Never mind that they would clean it up before leaving, and sometimes didn't even need him to ask for them to do so. It still drove him crazy, to watch Shinwoo scarfing down pocky and dropping crumbs and chocolate on the seat of his couch. Or walking in to see three or four crushed juice boxes on his table, and empty wrappers on the floor.

Games. He'd never really gotten involved with them. He supposed he might have played games as a child, but those days were buried so far in the past that he didn't even remember them in his dreams. And even if he had, the games of his childhood would have been nothing like the computer games and board games children played now. He'd watched the computer industry grow with interest, since it could be used for his work, but the game industry held no interest for him. Which was why he found himself, and his master, so woefully unprepared when they were challenged by the children. After the first few games, he couldn't decide if it was more ridiculous or humiliating, how badly the children thrashed him. He was a legend in his own right, a genius in science and strategy, and even Shinwoo was trouncing him. Never mind the indignity of facing their 'penalties'. He'd never let anyone strike him without a fight, and good sportsmanship demanded he sit still and accept the fact that a fifteen year old boy was hitting him in the forehead, and on the back, with enough force to leave red marks and stinging for several minutes. Worse, he had to watch his beloved master suffer a penalty too.

Outings and cell phone calls. All too often, the children would want to take their friend somewhere. He wasn't required to follow them, and in fact, wasn't usually asked to come. But that only meant he spent several hours wondering if his master was doing all right, if he was coping with the crowds around him, if he was managing. Several hours trying to remember if he'd given the master money, and if he'd given him enough. Several hours wondering if his master had his cell phone with him, if it was turned on, if it had been charged adequately. Of course, there were also the times when his worrying was interrupted by cell phone calls, usually Shinwoo or Ik-han, telling him something had happened, or asking him if he'd mind if they took Rai to do this or that. Every single cell phone call, without exception, made him jump up in fear that something bad had happened, and he was never sure whether to be relieved or annoyed when it was trivial.

New foods. He had acquainted himself with Korean food and food from other countries as well. He had his favorite foods, the things he liked, the things he could eat, the things he didn't care for. But his master had no clue about anything. Not the first idea about the various tastes and cuisine's to be had. And while he knew what his master had liked and not liked before, knew his tastes in general...well, he hadn't predicted the ramen, and he certainly had no intention of making the same mistake twice. Which was why he found himself constantly experimenting with different foods, even ones he'd never tried before, trying to gauge what his master liked and didn't like. Or even what he ought to serve his master to try.

Report Cards and teacher reports. He did occasionally get reports, if students were having difficulty, or if there was a particular problem. But now...it was different. He knew quite well that his master had no need of the things that were taught at the school, and knew more than any of his staff. True, he had slight difficulties with modern technology and math, and he had a great deal of catching up to do in terms of recent history, but he was far from ignorant. And it wasn't as if he actually needed any of the skills most youngsters would be using. But still, his master was officially a student. More than that, he was listed as being his master's guardian. In either case, appearances had to be maintained. And so he found himself actually paying attention to his master's grades, his assignments, his class reports _._ In general, his master did well, and Shinwoo and the others helped keep him on track. But every now and then, he needed to step in and provide additional explanations. Strangely enough, he was always absurdly pleased when his endeavors bore fruit and his master produced good grades. Even more strange, his master always seemed irrationally proud as well, and shyly embarrassed. 

Career counseling. His master had no need of such. He was a noble. He had his place in Lukedonia, among the Nobles. He would never need to search for, or hold, a mundane job. And if he ever needed money...well, they had plenty. 800 years of investing and gaining invention patent fees had enabled him to accumulate quite a bit of financial wealth. More than any normal human could hope to spend in a lifetime. And yet, it was expected that a young man of his master's apparent age should have counseling, be preparing to take up an occupation. As such, attending counseling was required, for both of them. And that required careful handling, to make it clear that his Master had a well-planned future ahead of him, without giving too much away.

So many strange things had entered his life since he'd enrolled his master in school. So many things that he had simply never thought about, never taken the time to experience. And though it drove him to distraction sometimes one look of satisfaction, of happiness, on his master's face was enough to make it all worthwhile. And as time went on, he could admit, sometimes, that he even enjoyed it. At least, a little.

After all, wasn't a normal life what he'd always wished for, for him and his master?

**Author's Note:**

> Ehh...I couldn't help it?


End file.
